Stay
by God Emperor Penguin
Summary: Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?
1. Cold Beginnings and Colder Hearts

**Summary:** _Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?_

 **Stay**

 **Chapter One**

 **Cold Beginnings and Colder Hearts**

 **RWBY**

* * *

A puff of white breath released into the darkened sky, dispersing in the quiet breeze. Its owner ran a hand through unkempt blonde hair as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. The sounds of rich orchestral music could be heard through the glass doors to the mansion. The clinking of chatter served as its accompaniment as rich men and women talked of rich people things.

It was safe to say that Jaune Arc was not a fan of these rich people things.

Half a year after the fall of Beacon, Jaune, alongside Ruby Rose, Lie Ren, and Nora Valkyrie, had finally found themselves in Atlas. Along the way they had encountered what could only be defined as a world on fire. Sometime, all those months ago, a woman decided to disrupt the world's order, leaving madness in her wake.

A light snow covered Atlas and, combined with the pale moonlight, left the city in a peaceful glow. Brightly lit signs and billboards felt alien amongst empty streets, filled only with the mechanical-esque footprints of Atlesian soldiers. Strict curfews had been implemented for civilian safety due to rising Grimm attacks across Remnant. It was the only way to make people feel safe, no matter how much of a farce it may be.

Jaune stretched, groaning as his back cracked, releasing ingrained stress from months of traveling and fighting. Dressed in an ill-fitting black suit, hastily hired from a local tailor, he stood alone outside while one of the many Schnee Dust Company functions proceeded behind him. Having all been invited, Ruby had implored for them to attend, saying they needed a break. The mansion itself was richly decorated from head to toe, with a manservant in every crevice and a maid in every corner. Shimmers of gold could be seen wherever the eye looked.

But Jaune didn't much care for any of that.

Once upon a time he may have, but not now. And so he found himself outside, away from the rich aristocrats who pretended as if all was still right with the world. The only thing he could stomach was the music. Murmurs of it could be heard playing from the ballroom, reminding him of a much simpler time. With a wistful smile, he closed his eyes as it took him away to a more different, more familiar balcony.

The wind picked up around Jaune, and for a moment he swore he could feel a woman's embrace.

 _Clack, clack, clack_.

Black heels gracefully moved along the smooth stone as a womanly figure draped in gradient blue walked onto the balcony. With every step, her dress moved, exposing the pale flesh of her left leg. Coming to a rest beside Jaune, she quietly looked towards the sky. And for a moment, there was nothing but serenity between them.

"It's your party," Jaune said quietly, breaking the silence. "Won't they miss you?"

"It's my father's party," the figure corrected. "I'm just forced to attend them."

Jaune slowly opened his eyes and turned towards the figure. "Then I guess that makes two of us."

Weiss Schnee stood before him, her white ponytail gleaming ethereally in the moonlight. A long-sleeved blue shrug graced her shoulders, keeping her warm. Her arms wrapped around herself as she met his eyes. Once filled with silent mirth, her gaze was now subdued with sadness and frustration at her predicament. She was a prisoner in her own home, and unjustly so too.

Time had been cruel to everyone, and Weiss Schnee was no exception. When order is thrown out the window, people show just how vile they truly are. When they don't understand something, they don't seek answers. They fear the truth because of the pain it brings. Instead they find a scapegoat and pile their problems onto it. To them, Atlas was responsible for Beacon's fall. No one asked why. No one wanted to. It was Atlas' fault. It was all of the Schnee's' faults.

"It's kinda interesting." Jaune said, looking out towards the horizon. "It's really bad out there, but here…" His grip tightened on the railing. "It's almost like nothing's changed."

"It _does_ seem that way," said Weiss. "But it's not like that."

His anger flared at her words. "What do you mean?"

"Put yourself in their shoes. For them, this is the only life they've ever known."

Jaune paused, processing her words. His anger slowly died. His grip slowly slackened. "I guess you're right," he admitted, fading back into silence.

The world outside was slowly burning. There was no denying that. And yet, while the pillars of men crumbled under anarchy, there were those who chose to be ignorant. There were those who chose to wine and dine on hills that looked down on valleys of tears. Maybe these hill-dwellers were villains who craved a life of gluttony and grandeur. Or maybe they were just as sad and confused as the rest, clinging to what was left of the life they had before everything turned upside-down-sideways.

Maybe that was what the people needed. To, if just for a moment, be able to reaffirm the dying belief that the world had not yet ended.

"Did you…" It was Weiss' hesitant voice that broke the silence this time. "Did you go to Mistral?"

Jaune could feel her gaze on him. He opened his mouth but no words came out. His throat was too dry to speak. All he could manage was a nod.

"So you went to…?"

Another nod.

"How did-?"

"About as well as it could," Jaune rasped out, squeezing his eyes shut. Flashes from his visit to her household flooded his mind. He saw a strong looking woman looking so pale and frail. He saw a shaking man with shaking legs holding the woman up with shaking arms. He saw trophies decorating the living room. He saw pictures of a happy family in happier times littered across the walls. He saw _her_ smile. _Her_ laugh. _Her_ -

A light touch on his shoulder broke Jaune from his reverie. Wild cobalt turned to meet diamond. "I'm sorry," Weiss said softly. "I didn't mean to-"

It was then Jaune realised that he was trembling.

"Don't be." He shook his head and inhaled shakily. "You were her friend too."

Weiss' eyes were brimmed with worry. Her fingertips lingered on his shoulder a while longer before falling back to her side. They both looked off into the distance again, relapsing into silence. A smattering of laughter could be heard from within the ballroom. Not from the smarmy aristocrats and bankers, but from three younger, freer souls. A smile found its way onto Jaune's face when he heard it.

"The two of you would have made quite the team," he said.

He heard Weiss faintly scoff. "She didn't want to team with me," she said. "And I can't blame her. Even I wouldn't have wanted to team with me."

White flakes entered Jaune's vision, causing him to look up. Powdery flakes began to fall once more, gifting Atlas a new blanket to sleep with through the night. Jaune stared towards the sky in wonder as the ballroom music continued to play. He reached out with an open palm and let a drop of snow land on it. Looking at it, he could only wonder, in a world where people either killed or were killed, how something so beautiful could still exist.

"I'd like to see the snow in person," he remembered her telling Nora one night. "Combat arenas aren't quite the same."

And Jaune was suddenly overcome with loneliness.

As Weiss looked around at the falling whiteness, a haunting familiarity came upon her.

* * *

 _The first thing Weiss noted was how white the walls were. With the hall dimly lit with fluorescent lights, the fumes of bleach continuously overwhelmed her. Weiss never was a fan of hospitals. Not since the day she had to get stitches. Opposite her, behind closed doors lay her friends, all healing after being injured from the 'Battle of Beacon'. At least, that's what she heard General Ironwood call it._

 _Next to her was an ashen-faced boy, gripping tightly onto a bronze headpiece._

* * *

With a sigh, Weiss turned around. "You should come back inside." She hesitated. "Your team is probably worried about you."

* * *

 _Comforting someone wasn't quite in Weiss' nature. Rather, the concept was pretty foreign to her. She wanted to do something - anything to help Jaune, but nothing came to mind. All she could do was sit there as his perfectly crafted world continued to fall apart._

 _"It's a little cold," she finally said, gingerly rising to her feet. "I'll try and find something for us to drink." She began to walk off._

* * *

"Wait."

Jaune's hoarse voice cut through the night, making Weiss' footsteps falter. Turning her head, she saw Jaune staring back at her.

* * *

 _"Don't leave," he said. His eyes were wide with fear. He reached out to her like a child to a parent. His hand was shaking terribly. "Not you too. Please."_

* * *

"Stay," he said weakly. "Just for a while."

* * *

 _Weiss hesitated. The man before her looked so lost; so vulnerable. It felt like if she were to even lightly touch him, that he would shatter into a million pieces, leaving only the headpiece behind._

* * *

"Okay," she said softly, stepping forward. "I'll stay."

Firmly grasping Jaune's hand with hers, she eased his arm back down to his side. His expression, having been so stricken with desperation, slowly relaxed once he realised her intentions. Seeing him calm down, Weiss gently let go of his hand. The world outside may continue to burn, but for now they stood together in a little slice of utopia.

* * *

 _"Don't worry," Weiss said quietly as Jaune trembled beside her. "I'll stay for as long as I can."_

* * *

And snow continued to fall.

* * *

 _Chapter One Fin_

 **Author's Notes:** _This will be a somewhat short series. Don't worry, this time it'll be chronological. Also, Weiss' concept art for volume 4 looks pretty._

 _\- Narutochaos22_


	2. The Cry of a Nevermore

**Summary:** _Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?_

 **Stay**

 **Chapter Two**

 **The Cry of a Nevermore**

 **RWBY**

* * *

 _The shrill wail of a Nevermore filled the entire classroom. Wincing students clasped their hands over their ears as glass in the windows began to crack from the strain. Jaune lay flat on his desk, gritting his teeth in pain. Oh how he wished that it'd end, and soon._

 _"This, class," roared Professor Peter Port over the never-ending wails. "This is a Nevermore. Isn't it splendid?"_

 _"Splendid isn't what comes to mind!" Yang Xiao Long yelled back. She had wrapped both of her ears with her scarf, hoping to dull the screams._

 _"Indeed, Miss Xiao Long!" Professor Port gave her a prideful nod before he threw the black cloth over the cage again. A symbol appeared and glowed a deep red, and then there was silence. "This creature is actually quite sickening. Why, its cry almost paralysed the lot of you in a manner of seconds!"_

 _Seeing the rest of the class place their hands down, Jaune followed suit with a groan. A high pitched ringing had set in his ears so strongly that he was pretty sure he had sustained some long term damage to his hearing._

 _"Back in less peaceful times, the cry of the Nevermore was all humans and Faunus alike ever had as a heralding to a Grimm attack." Professor Port stepped behind the podium once more. "They would hear that cry, and soon they would be overrun, and there was nothing that they could do about it."_

 _The atmosphere of the classroom had become rather sombre. It was unusual feeling, as Professor Port's lectures were usually filled with vibrant wordings and exaggerations. Instead the words that came out of his mouth were serious ones._

 _"Of course, now we have policies in place that allow us to react faster and limit civilian casualties." Professor Port gripped the podium tightly. "But those policies only work in times of order! Without order, no one can be saved."_

 _The bell rung, but not one student moved. Everyone was enraptured by the pathos dripping from every one of Professor Port's words. His shoulders were sagged. He sounded so broken. It was like he was reliving his past experiences before their very eyes._

 _"And that's where you come in, my young hunters and huntresses." Professor Port looked up at them all tiredly. He looked like he had aged several years, if not decades. "You are the order when nothing is left. You are the saviours when all hope is gone."_

 _The buzzing of other students could be heard outside the classroom doors, but Professor Port paid it no attention. Neither did the class. All they could do was stand in silence as the gravity of his words hit home._

 _"The cry of a Nevermore," Professor Port sighed. "Remember, class. The cry of a Nevermore signals the beginning of the end."_

* * *

"Jaune, move!"

 _"URYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_

Jaune dove to the ground. The large claws of a Nevermore swooped by, a hair's breadth from where he had stood. Its shrill wail sounded as it took off once more, its cries joining the many others in the smoking skies. Jaune struggled to get back to his feet as Ren darted to his side.

"This is the third overrun village this week." he said, his small blades at the ready.

Jaune grimaced. Hoisting up his sword and shield, he fell into a battle stance. "Evacuating is all we can do at this point."

Giant flames engulfed the village around them. Giant waves of overbearing Grimm took to the streets, scaring off frightened villagers, or mauling them where they stood. The two of them could hear sniper shots and heavy crashes in the distance, signalling Ruby and Nora's presence on the other side of the village. Yet the sounds that dominated Jaune's ears were the cries of the Nevermore.

But somewhere underneath that cry were the ghosts of human ones.

"Help," he heard them say. "Somebody, help!"

Jaune furtively looked around, trying to find the source of panic. Zoning in on a house ablaze, his eyes widened when he saw several hands reach up feebly behind a window. Subconsciously he began to run forward, his hand outstretched towards them.

"Jaune!"

His eyes darting to his left, Jaune barely registered a sharp claw lunging at his face. He quickly dodged to the side, feeling the gust of wind from the swipe. In one swift motion he impaled the Creep, dispersing it into darkness. Free, he began to run towards the house.

Feeling a presence behind him, Jaune swivelled on the spot, his shield clashing with the claws of a Beowolf. Forcing it back he launched his sword again, cleaving the Beowolf in half. Jaune heaved down to a knee, wiping sweat from his eyes. He was only a few feet away from the house.

"Hang on," he yelled towards them, "I'm almost there!"

He got no response.

 _Thump, thump, thump_.

 _"URYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_

The scream chilled Jaune to his very core as he turned around. The vast sky was filled with black feathers as the Nevermore came screeching down from above. In its crosshairs was Ren, pinned to the ground by a Beowolf. Should the Nevermore continue in that trajectory, eventually it'd hit the house with the trapped villagers. Nevermore's were smart. It would know to sweep lower this time. Try as he might, Jaune couldn't hope to save them all. Even if he paged Ruby and Nora, they'd be too late. There just wasn't enough time.

 ** _"You are the order when nothing is left. You are the saviours when all hope is gone."_**

 _Thump, thump, THUMP._

Jaune began to run. "Ren!" he shouted, reaching out with his hand. Purple irises clashed with blue. With an abrupt nod, Ren tossed one of his blades over, using the other to keep the Beowolf's jaws at bay. By the time Jaune caught it, it had transformed into a pistol. Rolling through, Jaune opened fire on the Beowolf. Some bullets caught it in the shoulder, causing it to rear back, allowing Ren to reach up and quickly slash its throat.

 _THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._

The immediate danger now passed, the two boys changed their focus to the incoming Nevermore. Round after round sank into its flesh to no avail. It was too big and too fast. There was nothing they could do. Reaching Ren, Jaune dove over him, pulling his shield up to cover them. Closing their eyes in resignation, they waited for the worst to happen.

 _THUMP. THUMP. CRACK._

The talons swatted Jaune's shield like it was nothing and sent the boys flying. They crumpled to the ground in heaps. A soundless cry escaped Jaune's mouth as he felt his left shoulder disconnect from his body. He didn't need to hear his aura shattering to know that it had depleted. Everything hurt. He couldn't speak. He could barely even breathe. There was no air left in his lungs. Disoriented, he barely registered the loud thuds of the Nevermore's talons meeting the ground.

Eyes blearily looking up, all Jaune could see was its hideous, snarling face. His shield lay miles away from him. His sword even further. Ren was slumped on the ground. With what little strength he had left, Jaune looked past the Nevermore to see the burning house still standing. A small smile graced his face. At least there was a chance that he had saved their lives.

 _I'm gonna die_ , he thought weakly, and tears suddenly filled his eyes. _At least I get to be with her again_.

The roar of the Nevermore filled his ears. He shut his eyes, waiting for its beak to ravage his throat.

 _"URYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_

* * *

"Jaune! Jaune, come on, get up! Please!"

A whine surfaced from his throat as Jaune slowly came to his senses. Someone or something was furiously shaking his shoulder. His eyes remained shut. Everything was numb and strange. He'd never felt lighter in his life, and yet every movement felt so heavy.

 _Am I dead?_ he thought. _Is this the afterlife?_

"Jaune? Jaune!"

His eyes slowly creaked opened and he winced, blinded by light. He could barely see. He could barely hear. He could barely do anything at all. A figure swam into focus. He blinked and gasped. Red. All he could see was flowing red hair.

"Pyrrha?" he croaked out.

"You're awake," she gasped, bringing her hands to her face. "He's awake, oh thank god. Nora!" She called out to someone beyond Jaune's vision. "Nora, he's awake!"

"Ren's okay too!" Jaune heard Nora shout through the haze, but he didn't care about that. All that mattered was Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos was here. Pyrrha Nikos was alive. Tears spilled out of Jaune's eyes. It was too good to be true.

"Pyrrha," he whispered again. "You're really here." His arms felt like lead, but it didn't matter. Still he heaved one of them towards her. He needed to touch her. He needed to know that this was reality and not a fantasy. That this was real. With what strength he could muster, he grabbed a handful of her cloak.

Her cloak…

… her cloak?

All of Jaune's senses came alive. It was like all he had ever known was pain. Fire shot through every single limb and orifice unrelentingly. It vibrated in waves with no signs of stopping. It was maddening. He couldn't help it. He opened his mouth and let loose a bloodcurdling scream.

It really was too good to be true.

"Jaune." Ruby Rose swam into his vision, her hands tightly clasped around his. "You're okay, Jaune. You're alive."

 _Then why does this feel like hell?_ he screamed internally.

It was as if someone was squeezing his every muscle, trying to pulverise them into mush. It felt like someone was sitting on his chest, not allowing him to breathe. It hurt too much. It hurt far too much. This wasn't death but he wanted to die.

The cool grass on Jaune's back would have been a welcome change from the charred grounds he had fought on. If only he could feel it. The shrieks of Grimm had died down, replaced now by scared sobs and confused whispers. The only solace was that no cries of a Nevermore reached Jaune's ears. It was over. They had survived.

Somewhere, in the haze of pain he felt, he remembered the burning house.

"There were-" he gasped out. "There were people in the house behind me. Did they get out?"

Ruby's eyes clouded over and what little relief she had on her face faded away. Her mouth became tight. Hands that held Jaune's held even tighter. Jaune's heartbeat hammered in his aching chest. His breath quickened, causing his already exhausted lungs to work overtime. Stars crawled in from the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision.

 _ **"** **Remember, class. The cry of a Nevermore signals the beginning of the end."**_

"They weren't killed by the Grimm," she said quietly.

Jaune blacked out.

* * *

 _Chapter Two Fin_

 _\- Narutochaos22_


	3. Past Tense and Present Tense

**Summary:** _Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?_

 **Stay**

 **Chapter Three**

 **Past Tense and Present Tense**

 **RWBY**

* * *

 _"How bad is it?"_

 _Blake took a long pause. "There's no real way to describe it without it being an understatement."_

 _Weiss let out a sigh. "I had a feeling it was like that."_

 _On the surface, it seemed that Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna were complete polar opposites. Human, Faunus. Rich, poor. Heiress, White Fang. And yet, same team or not, somehow they ended up being good friends. To the outsider, it was rather strange. To Weiss and Blake, it was completely normal._

 _"What do you want me to say?" Blake closed her eyes and leaned against the tree. "There'd be no White Fang if we didn't detest your family in the first place."_

 _"I know." Weiss hunched over on the bench, her head resting in her hands._

 _Ruby and Yang were heavy sleepers. Once the dorms called for lights out, they were - to put it poetically, out like a light. Unfortunately, Blake and Weiss didn't share that same gift. And, once they realised they both suffered the same fate, took to midnight talks in the gardens. There, away from prying eyes and ears, they could talk about anything they wanted._

 _"A cousin used to come over," Weiss said softly, breaking the silence. "She was around my age, and because Winter was busy all the time we'd end up playing together." The smile adorned on her face quickly turned into a frown. "And then one day I heard that the car her family was in blew up."_

 _"That was probably us," Blake said quietly._

 _"Probably?"_

 _"I wouldn't be surprised."_

 _The sound of the running fountain washed over the still night. Overhead, stars in their plenty twinkled next to a shattered moon. It was cool out tonight - the cold season was still days away. There was no need for thick outerwear just yet. And as Weiss looked around the garden, everything that she saw was peaceful._

 _"They wanted to kill you."_

 _Blake's velvet tone cut through the peace, snapping Weiss out of her reverie. She blinked in confusion. "Me? Why?"_

 _"Without an heir, the company would fall."_

 _Weiss laughed hollowly. "They hated my family that much?"_

 _"Hate," Blake corrected. She pushed off from the tree and walked over to Weiss, looking her square in the eye. "They hate your family that much."_

* * *

It was in the wee hours of the morning, and yet Weiss Schnee was still awake. Clad in a silk dressing gown, she came to rest on the balcony outside her room. She couldn't sleep. She hadn't been able to since the day she got home. Not while the world outside suffered alone.

Tightening her jacket around her, she breathed in the clean air. It was no secret that all of Remnant blamed the Schnee's for everything that had gone wrong. She couldn't blame them, even if she desperately wanted to. People remain unified if they have a common enemy. If that common enemy was her, then she was okay with it. Rather, she had to be okay with it. It was the only way to hold on to what little order was left. Despite this, she was miserable.

 _I want to leave_ , she thought.

Being cooped up in the mansion had made her restless. Every day was the same. Dress up, attend a function, smile, play nice, and then be excused. Winter, given her position in the military, was exempt from attending, so it fell to Weiss to be her father's puppet. Over and over again, that was all that was expected of her.

Staring out into the quiet city of Atlas, lightly dusted with snow, one would think that all was still right in the world. Plead ignorance long enough and it was as if the 'Battle of Beacon' had never happened in the first place. To live like that was a luxury no one with their right mind could afford. Outside of the Grimm attacks increasing, something more treacherous was afoot. But amidst the chaos, no one bothered to look.

Taking one last breath of fresh air, Weiss retreated back into her quarters. Heaven knows how long she'd have to force herself to smile tonight.

* * *

"Oh Miss Schnee, you look positively _radiant_ tonight! Doesn't she dear?"

"Yes, yes, quite so. We must introduce you to our son sometime…"

"Miss Schnee, it's an honour to meet you!"

"M-miss Schnee, might I have the pleasure of this dance?"

It had only been an hour, and yet to Weiss if felt like a year had passed. The ballroom was alight and sparkling with gold, filled with people who wanted to talk about nothing but how great their lives were and how much greater they could be.

Tonight's function was about… well, whatever it was about, Weiss stopped caring long ago. If she wasn't smiling, then she was curtseying. And if she wasn't curtseying, she was dancing. Oh _god_ the dancing. Sitting up straight and adorned in a flowing blue dress with her hair tied up, she put on a plastic smile, trying her best to hide how badly her feet ached. Her tired eyes sought out her father, hoping that he would finally allow her to excuse herself. Unfortunately for her, he was in the midst of talking with higher-ups from the company.

"Did you hear about the Grimm attacks?" A worried voice reached her ears from an adjacent table. "Apparently they've gotten worse-"

"Nonsense," the other voice scoffed. "Those are just rumours. We have hunters and huntresses' for a reason."

"I don't know…"

"Excuse me, Miss Schnee…"

Weiss grimaced and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and turned to face a dark-haired young man. "Good evening," she said _a little too_ sweetly. "I trust you're finding tonight to be up to your standards?"

The man laughed. "Don't worry. I'm not after your hand in marriage." He raised his hand, showing a wedding band.

"Oh." Weiss' cheeks reddened. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," the man said easily. "You're probably tired of all the suitors you get."

"That would be putting it lightly." Weiss gave him an exasperated smile. "So, where is your wife?

"She's with our son." The man pulled out a chair. "She implored that I attend tonight." He paused. His eyes darted back and forth as he leaned in to whisper. "Between you and me, I have no idea what this function's about," he said with a chuckle.

The man's laugh was infectious, and Weiss couldn't help but let out a few giggles. Looking closely at him, he can't have been more than ten or so years older than her. He filled out his suit nicely, and had a nice relaxed demeanour to him. They began to speak about a myriad of things. Well, he mostly talked while Weiss listened. The man had lived an interesting life. He told her many stories, most involving his wife and son. His charisma bled through so strongly that she couldn't help but be enraptured.

For the first time that night, Weiss Schnee's smile was genuine. It had been so long since she didn't have to play a part. With this man, there was no pressure. She could just be Weiss. In fact, she was so comfortable with him than when he offered his hand to dance she accepted, having completely forgotten about her aching feet.

One, two, three. One, two, three. The two of them waltzed through the crowded ballroom, and Weiss revelled in her enjoyment. It was such a rare occurrence - the ability to enjoy something that had long since become mundane. And Weiss loved every moment of it.

"Would you like some air?" the man asked as the last piece died down.

Weiss gave him a bright smile and nodded. Arm in arm, they waded through distinguished guests on their way out of the ballroom. All the while, Weiss could feel the intense stare of her father follow after her. Curious about the young man, no doubt.

* * *

"I take it you've enjoyed tonight, Miss Schnee."

The Schnee manor's front yard was a sight to behold, especially at night. The two of them walked along the aged cobblestoned path next to an extravagant fountain. Jets of spray arced out of the water, casting rainbows in the light. Large palm trees rustled, scenting the wind with the smell of nature.

"I have. And please, call me Weiss."

The man gave another laugh. "Weiss, then." He shook his head. "My wife and son would have loved to meet you."

"I'd love to meet them too," Weiss had taken off her heels. The coolness of the stone felt like heaven to her aching feet. "Your son sounds every bit like you."

"He was."

"That reminds me, you still haven't told me who you are."

"My name doesn't matter."

Laughing lightly, Weiss spun around to face the man. "Of course it-!" she faltered. "-does."

The man had stopped walking some time ago. A sad, wry smile was stretched across his face. When he looked up, Weiss could only see a deep despair. "You're a nice girl, Weiss." His voice was listless. "It's such a shame that you're from a family of murderers."

A chill ran down Weiss' spine. The smile on her face began to fade. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly. "I'm not quite sure what you-?"

"We were at the Vytal festival." The man's stared off unseeingly into space. "My son was so happy to be there. He adored the fights, you see. 'Daddy, I wanna be just like the heroes on the TV!'" He laughed ruefully. "That was his dream, you know?"

"Was…" Weiss' eyes widened.

"And then it all went wrong." The man's face was haggard and haunted. "He was so small that one of your paladins crushed him under its foot like he was nothing. My wife couldn't even mourn him before one of your mechs _shot her in the head!_ " The man's venom caused Weiss to instinctively step back. "Do you know what it's like? To hold your wife's body in one hand, and to console your dying son with the other? Do you? _Huh?!_ "

The man's voice echoed throughout the front yard. His hands clutched his chest as his body wracked with sobs. Guilt panged within Weiss. She wanted to offer some words of comfort, nothing surfaced. The Schnee's had helped fund the Atlesian program. This man's life had been ruined because of the Atlesian program. It didn't matter if the mechs were hacked. Those were the facts that she couldn't deny.

"They didn't deserve it." Tears freely spilled from the man's eyes as he fell to his knees. "How is this fair? Who gets punished? _Where's the damn justice?!_ "

Weiss' mouth worked up and down but no words came to pass. "I'm sorry," was all she could offer. "I'm so sorry."

"I miss them." The man wailed. "I miss them so much."

The man continued to sob, but as for Weiss - she was at a loss on what to do. Option after option flicked through her mind, but all were turned down. "I honestly don't know what to say," she admitted aloud. Kneeling in front of him, she continued. "All I can do is lend you my ears." She offered him a small smile. "You can tell me more about your wife and son."

The man's sobbing slowed. Taking in ragged breaths, he looked up at Weiss and gave her a watery smile. "You're too kind," he rasped out. "Really, you are."

Relief washed over her and her smile brightened.

"But somebody has to atone for your family's crimes."

A wave of power surged throughout the front yard. Water from the fountain gravitated upwards, suspending itself in mid-air. The path they stood on shook as the stones began to loosen. Lamp posts flickered one by one. On, off, on, off. Weiss' eyes widened as a red markings glowed all over the man's suit.

 _It's imbued with dust_ , she faintly registered before her mind sprang into action. "You don't have to do this," she pleaded, stepping forward. "You still haven't told me your name."

"The only thing that matters now is my mission." The man's response was terse. His eyes rolled back as the energy from the suit pulsed inside him. A pained groan grinded out of his mouth. "I even chopped them off because they told me to."

"Chopped them off?" Realisation washed over her like a wave. "You're a-!"

Weiss suddenly found herself being launched across the front yard, landing softly by the front door. Bewildered, she opened her eyes to see that she was lying on a glyph. It took her only a moment to recognise who it belonged to. She quickly looked up, her eyes trained on a man dressed purely in white as he calmly made his way down the stairs. His left hand hung loosely by his side while his right was outstretched in front of him.

"Father?" was all Weiss could say before an inhuman scream pierced her ears. She turned towards its source, and instantly brought a hand to her mouth.

A dome of glyphs surrounded the man, suppressing the dust explosion inside. The man let loose scream after scream as his skin melted off and his bones turned into ash. The energy had nowhere else to go. Deranged eyes locked onto her and he reached out with his rapidly deforming hand. _You did this_ , his eyes seemed to say. _This is all your fault_!

There was a beat of silence before the dome was painted red.

Weiss' father put his hand down. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he murmured. Dusting his sleeves off, he walked back up the stairs. "Your presence is no longer required," he said to Weiss as he opened the door. "Come in when you're ready."

The muffled chatter and laughter of the upper class could be heard from within the mansion's walls. How amazing it was that they were all wholly unaware that someone had died just a couple of hundred feet from them.

 _Slam_.

Weiss couldn't move. Her eyes remained on the dome, unblinking. Her lungs were on fire. Unbeknownst to her, she had stopped breathing some time ago. Her heart was hammering so hard and fast that she thought that she was going to faint.

Her father's glyphs slowly faded away, leaving what was left of the man to splatter onto the ground.

* * *

 _Chapter Three Fin_

 _\- Narutochaos22_


	4. A Single Moment of Tranquility

**Summary:** _Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?_

 **Stay**

 **Chapter Four**

 **A Single Moment of Tranquility**

 **RWBY**

* * *

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

Round and round the ceiling fan went. Round and round Jaune's eyes followed.

"Do you need another pillow? I can get you another pillow."

"That's not-"

"How about your leg? Is it raised high enough? It needs to be elevated, you know?"

"I'm-"

"The bandages on your arm look awful! _God_ , is it amateur hour up in here? Gimme a sec and I'll- ow!"

"Nora," Ren lowered his hand. "I'm fine."

"Well you don't look fine!" Tears had welled up in Nora's eyes as she curled by his bedside. "I should've been with you. I could've kept you safe…"

A slight smile graced Ren's face. Deliberate delicate fingers reached down into Nora's hair, and slowly threaded through it. "I'm safe now," he said quietly.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

Round and round the ceiling fan went. Round and round Jaune's eyes followed. Hospitals in Mistral were much smaller than the ones in Vale, but if he closed his eyes, it still smelt and sounded the same. That's what drove Jaune crazy about hospitals. Apart from the too-white walls, everything was too clean; too procedural. Every inch you could walk on was free of dirt. Fumes of disinfectant radiated around each ward. Rather than being a place for the living, it felt more like a place for the dying.

Jaune Arc didn't used to believe that, but he did now.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

"How're ya feeling, Jaune?"

Jaune's attention was at his right hand, letting the bronze headpiece catch in the light. "I'm alive," he said slowly. "And breathing, I guess."

"Breathing's good!" Ruby's grey eyes brightened as she beamed. "I'd give you a high five, but um…" She indicated at his numerous casts. "Y'know."

When Jaune had finally come to, he was in a hospital ward. In his sleep, his aura had reactivated and had begun healing him. Things such as the wounds and burns would heal easily enough. Unfortunately, several of his bones had broken, and as his body regenerated many had set wrong. Due to the influx of civilian injuries, anaesthetic was saved for the more 'major' injuries. Jaune spent the next few hours with only a rag between his teeth as nurses broke his bones again to let them set properly this time around.

It was not pleasant, to say the least.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

A loud knock caused all heads to turn. There by the door stood Velvet Scarlatina, dressed head to toe in scrubs. Her hair tied back in a bun, and a mask was hanging off her face. She was one of the 'amateurs' as Nora had put it. The staff was being overrun by the sheer number of patients, so it was put to volunteers to take up the mantle. Team CFVY, having found their way to Mistral as well, quickly joined the cause.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said timidly. "Ruby, someone's here to see you. He says he's your uncle…"

"Uncle Qrow is here?" Ruby was on her feet in an instant, her eyes wide. "Did he find Professor Ozpin?"

Velvet shrugged. "He just told me to get you."

"Right! Okay, um." Ruby wheeled around to face her team. "Don't go anywhere, guys. I'll be back soon!"

"It's not like some of us have a choice."

Ren's tone was incredibly dry.

"Right, right…" Ruby scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. "I forgot, you two with the- and the- yeah- I- I'm just gonna…" The door slammed shut, leaving what remained of Team JNPR behind it.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

The room was not exactly silent. The walls were not paper thin by any means, but listen hard enough and one could hear the muffled sounds of other denizens of the hospital. Some were taking their visit in stride, talking good-naturedly with each other. Some were frustrated, shouting down patients and attendants alike as they cursed their own uselessness. Some were scared, crying about their displacement from a home that no longer existed.

Jaune closed his eyes. Indeed, hospitals were where people went to die.

"Jaune." Ren's quiet voice cut through the subtle ambience, his hand still stroking Nora's hair.

"Yeah?" Jaune remained still; his eyes slowly opening.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving my life."

A dark chuckle shot out of Jaune's mouth. "Yeah," he snorted. "Whatever, buddy."

"I'm serious." Ren turned his head to face him. "Had it not been for you, my injuries would have been worse." He swallowed heavily. "Or I'd be dead."

"Don't say that," came Nora's quivery voice.

"But it's true."

"I don't wanna hear it."

The memories were still fresh in Jaune's mind. He could feel his bones crumble as the Nevermore smashed into him. He could smell its putrid breath as it roared down on him. He could see the pure hatred in its eyes as it readied to end his life. Jaune was lucky to be alive. Had Ruby not come in time, he'd be just another body left in the Grimm's wake.

Just like the villagers he had failed to save.

"I'd rather be dead."

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

Ren and Nora's argument ceased. Jaune could feel their eyes on him, but he didn't care. His had eyes only for the bronze headpiece in his hand. Closing his eyes, he could still feel her touch. He could still hear her laugh. He could still see her smile. "I should be dead," he said aloud.

Beacon may have fallen all those months ago, but to Jaune it felt like yesterday. Whenever he slept, he dreamt of that day. From the cool night air to the warmth of her lips, every day he relived that nightmare. It haunted him. It plagued him.

"Do you think she's lonely?" he said softly. "She's gotta be lonely, because she's dead. And we're still alive." He sighed heavily. "I should have died. That way she wouldn't have to be alone anymore."

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

Jaune laughed sardonically. "Hell, maybe we both should have died. Then at least we'd both be there with he- AUGH!"

The shattering of aura trilled across the room. Blood heaved out of Jaune's mouth. Spluttering, his eyes bulged in their sockets. His free hand shot up, feebly scrabbling at the fist which had hit him in square in his stomach.

"Nora," he gasped out. "What-?"

"Shut up."

Nora's fist resurfaced. Air suddenly flowed back in Jaune's lungs, causing him to wince. His newly mended ribs had definitely cracked again. Nora's shoulders shook. Her eyes were downcast. The room was filled with the sound of her heavy breathing.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

"Don't think," Nora grit out. "Even for a second that your life is that freaking important." Her eyes shot up as angry tears fell. "We lost her too, Jaune. _WE LOST HER TOO_!"

Nora's scream pierced rocked Jaune to his very core. He could only stare back at her in shock, one hand clutching his stomach while the other held the headpiece. "Nora," he tried.

"Shut up!" Nora shook her head violently. "It's been over half a year Jaune, and nothing's changed! All you've done is mope about, feeling sorry for yourself. Feeling sorry about how _you felt_. About how _you hurt_. And in all that time, did you ever think that we were hurting too? JNPR has four letters, not two!"

"We?" Jaune looked over her shoulder. "Ren?" he said weakly.

Ren refused to meet his eyes.

"Pyrrha is dead, Jaune." Nora's voice was softer now. Yet anger was still rich in her voice. "She's dead. There's nothing we can do to change that. All we can do is get back up and keep fighting. So get the hell back up!" She looked him in the face, determination burning in her eyes. "And keep fighting, _dammit_!"

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

"I…" No words came to Jaune. "I don't know if I…"

The fire died in Nora's eyes. "Forget it," she said coldly. "I'll go get someone to check on you." She stood up, her head angled towards the door. "If Pyrrha could see you now, I wonder what she'd think of you?"

And with that, she left. The door shut, leaving the boys to themselves. Jaune's hand holding the headpiece slowly made its way to his chest. There it lay as he looked up at the ceiling. Pangs of pain shot through his body, but he didn't much care. Not at present, anyway.

"She right," Ren said quietly.

Round and round the ceiling fan went. Round and round Jaune's eyes followed.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

* * *

The sound of slippered feet pounded through the hallway. Hitting cold tiles, wobbly knees crashed to the floor. Frantic hands fumbled the toilet's lid, and a waterfall of yellowy-green gushed into the bowl. Its putrid texture was thick and slimy, like pus oozing out of a pimple. It came in waves. Fast. Slow. Fast. Slow. The only constant was the dreadful sound of a human retch.

The nausea passed, but Weiss didn't care. The porcelain was cool against her cheek. Breathe in. Breathe out. The scene played again in her mind's eye. The dust bomb consuming the man's body, tearing apart his innards while his face gaped in an eternal scream. The skin tearing from his face, showing what remained of his degrading skull. His rabid, unseeing eyes as he reached towards her. The stringy red pieces stretching across the dome.

Bile rose in Weiss' throat. She opened lid and heaved. Nothing came out. There was nothing left to throw up. All she could taste was the sour spit in her mouth. With tears streaking from her eyes, she forced the lid down and blindly reached for the handle. The roar of water strong in her ears, she slumped to the floor.

She didn't know how long she lay there. All she knew was that eventually there was a rap on the door. "Miss Schnee?" called a maid. "Is everything okay?"

Weiss groggily opened her eyes. They were unfocused. "Everything's fine," she croaked out. "Just leave me be."

* * *

Weiss lay rigid in her bed. Exhausted as she may be, she dared not close her eyes. For whenever she did, she could only see that man. Over and over, she could only see him crying. Over and over, she could only see him dying.

By the time the guests had left, the remnants of the man had disappeared, cleaned up by house servants. It was as if he had never existed, and all were none the wiser to it. From the top of the staircase, she had seen her father. Oh how freely he talked with a smile on his face! Looking at him, one would never think that he had murdered a man in cold blood just moments ago.

And as for the man, there was no family left to remember him. He would go down in history as nothing a statistic. As his body had disappeared, so too would his memory. Vanishing without a trace.

Weiss had been with him in his final moments, and didn't even know his name.

 _He said he cut them off_ , she thought. _Did he mean his ears_?

Faint murmurs of recollection dredged through Weiss' mind, like picking up shattered glass and reforming it into a vase. Maybe his hair looked a little frazzled to cover up his surgery. Maybe it wasn't and Weiss was just projecting. She didn't know. The man's face flashed in her head. He had looked so carefree, so happy. If she had just picked up that something was wrong beforehand, perhaps he'd still be alive.

 _My father_ , she thought. _He might know something_.

 _BZZZZZZZZZZT. BZZZZZZZZZZT._

The sound of her scroll going off startled Weiss. International communication systems had been up since last month. She'd gotten the occasional call from Ruby when her former leader had the time to talk, but her scroll spent most days collecting dust, unused. Blindly groping her bedside table, she raised the scroll to her ear.

"Hello?" she said.

Static ambience was on the other side. Then, _"Hey."_

Confusion marred Weiss' face. "Jaune?" she asked. "What's-?" Blood drained from her face. Her grip tightened around her scroll. "Is Ruby-?"

 _"Ruby's okay,"_ he said hastily. _"We're all okay."_

"Oh." Her heart steadied as she closed her eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. "Then why are you calling so late?"

There was a pregnant pause. _"It's… I just…"_ A loud sigh crackled over the receiver. _"I didn't know who else to call."_

Silence reigned over the both of them. It wasn't the most awkward of silences. But still, it was strange. It was like they were on the balcony again, outside in the snow. Jaune sounded so scared over the line; so afraid. And yet he said nothing, and Weiss didn't know what to say.

 _"I've had a rough day,"_ Jaune finally whispered. _"A really, rough day."_ His voice cracked at the end.

Hot tears singed Weiss' eyelids, but she stubbornly held them back. "Me too." Her voice was tight. "Me too."

 _"Can we-?"_ Jaune took in a ragged gasp. _"Can we stay like this? Just for a while?"_

It was all too much. The dam broke. Weiss' pent up emotions got the best of her. Weeks of frustration and angst flowed through her unrelentingly. They came at her, ragdolling her out into the sea. "Yeah." She curled tightly into a ball as tears freely ran down her cheeks. "I'd like that very much."

* * *

 _Chapter Four Fin_

 _\- Narutochaos22_


	5. The Lamentations of a Lunatic

**Summary:** _Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?_

 **Stay**

 **Chapter Five**

 **The Lamentations of a Lunatic**

 **RWBY**

* * *

"How are things out there?"

 _"It could be better,"_ Jaune admitted. _"We're doing better than Vacuo, though."_

"I see." Weiss drew her knees closer to her body. "Speaking of Vacuo, has anyone located Sun?"

 _"Not yet. His team's getting pretty worried."_

"It's Sun. I'm sure he's fine."

 _"Yeah, I guess… and what about you?"_

"What about me?"

Weiss could almost feel Jaune roll his eyes at her. _"You sounded pretty upset the other day."_

"I was."

 _"Do you… do you wanna talk about it?"_

"No."

 _"Okay."_

Weiss grimaced. "Sorry." She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed as she massaged her temple. "Don't worry about me," she said. "I'll be fine."

* * *

Someone was watching her.

At least, to Weiss it felt that way.

After the incident last week, two guards had been assigned to her at all times. 'It's for your protection', they had said. 'Your father's worried about you.' Weiss didn't know what was funnier: the idea of her father showing emotion, or two low-tiered guards protecting her.

But still, it felt like someone was watching her. The feeling was so strong that she had stopped going out to the balcony at night. Maybe the attempt on her life had made her paranoid. Or maybe she was right. Weiss' instincts were not what quite up to scratch, but they weren't entirely deadened either.

Being locked up in the Schnee manor for the better part of a year was not an excuse to succumb to ennui. When not obeying her father's wishes, what little time she had to herself she spent training. Granted, it was quite insufficient. The sparring-simulation room, while adequately equipped, paled in comparison to the reality offered at Beacon Academy. Weiss could still keep fit. She could still remain in fighting shape. But there was no question that her skill level was not where it once was.

The atmosphere of the manor was tense. Well, more tense than usual. As Weiss strode through the halls in her blue-white dress, she could only hear low voices. Servants talked with guards. Cooks talked with maids. Scraps of sentences could be heard as she passed them by.

"… days late."

"… no news…"

"Quite worrying…"

Weiss paid no attention to any of that. With her guards hot on her heels, she turned around a corner, accidentally brushing by someone walking the other way. "Sorry," she muttered absentmindedly.

"Miss Schnee?"

Weiss halted in her tracks as a familiar voice slithered in her ears. Goosebumps ran up and down her arms as she turned around. "It's been a while," she said stiffly, ire underlying her tone. "I trust you've been well?"

"I'm about as well as I can be, given our circumstances." Deft fingers rose up to readjust strict-looking glasses. Pale blonde hair was swept to the side, tied back tightly into a ponytail, defining severe facial features. A sharp black dress-suit, finely lined and fitted, wrapped around a lithe frame. "Have you been enjoying your stay at the manor?"

"Are you still enjoying mindlessly following orders?"

Weiss' father's personal secretary gave her a thin smile. "I see you still have quite the tongue on you," she said politely. "Are you off to see the president?"

"Yes."

"I see…" The secretary hesitated. "Perhaps it'd be best if you came back later. Your father-"

"-can spare a few minutes to talk to his heiress." Weiss spun around. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Weiss began to walk away, her guards in tow. She had not seen her father's secretary since the charity event. With her father's increased presence at the manor, he had relegated his secretary to take charge at the company headquarters. And that was one of the few perks to Weiss' house arrest. While on better terms, the both of them were still not each other's favourite people.

Setting a Grimm-possessed suit of armour to attack you tends to do that to relationships.

"Do you still practice singing?"

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Weiss' footsteps ceased. The secretary's expression was unreadable. "Your father's been under a lot of stress," she said quietly. "If you sang for him, I'm sure it'd lift his spirits."

* * *

"Enter."

Bronzed bubinga doors creaked opened as Weiss strode into her father's study, her guards standing dutifully outside. Compared to the rest of the house, which was filled with grandeur, the study was rather sparse. Bare necessities, while still of the highest quality, were all that filled the space. Weiss' father was a man of efficiency. 'A workplace needs no distractions,' she had heard him say many a time.

And yet, on his desk, Weiss could spot an anomaly.

"Weiss," he murmured. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The president of the Schnee Dust Company sported a full head of white hair with a moustache to accompany it. Wrinkles in their plenty lined his forehead. He wore a light-blue collared shirt with a white tie and dark-turquoise vest over the top. A white suit jacket covered it all, together with matching suit pants. A red pocket square poked out of his breast pocket as he sat behind his desk, his head leaning heavily in his right hand.

Weiss came to a rest before his desk, a pair of chairs by her side. Her father didn't bother to offer her a seat. She didn't bother to sit down. "You know why I'm here."

Her father gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, yes. It must be that time of the week again." His head surfaced from his hand, revealing stormy blue eyes. If Weiss' eyes were like diamonds, then her father's were like aquamarines. "You know my answer."

"But-"

"I forbid it." Her father's head angled downwards, allowing his fingers to rub his temple - a mannerism that his daughters seemed to have picked up. "Every Monday at precisely eleven o'clock, you walk in here and ask for me to let you leave. Every Monday at precisely two past eleven, you walk out of here after I refuse." He raised his head once more, faint traces of curiosity showing in his eyes. "Why is it that you persist?"

Weiss squared her shoulders. "My friends are struggling out there." Determination burned in her eyes. "They need me."

A silence fell over the study. Weiss' father looked at her strangely. Then, a brief chuckle left his mouth. That chuckle became plural, gradually rising in volume. Soon the room was filled with the unorthodox roar of her father's laughter. Confusions marred Weiss' face before quickly turning into anger. Her hands curled into fists.

Her father was _laughing at her_.

Time passed, and eventually his chuckles subsided. Her father reached for a tissue, dabbing at his eyes. "Your sister's informed me that she will be in Atlas early next week." Throwing the tissue in the bin, he turned his attention to his computer. "I've set aside a time for us to have a family dinner."

The sound of fingers hitting the keyboard was the only sound in the room. Weiss couldn't believe it. Her father was now completely engrossed in his work. It was like she wasn't even there. Her eyes fell on the anomaly once more, and rage surged within her. "That man who died last week," she said. "What was his name?"

"It is now three past eleven." Her father pulled up a graph and began to analyse it closely.

"What was his name?" Weiss repeated.

A sigh. "What does it matter?" he murmured. "He deserved to die."

"What? For being a member of the White Fang?"

Weiss' father's fingers stilled for the briefest of moments he resumed typing. "So you know."

"I had a hunch." Weiss crossed her arms. "How did he get in?"

"His suit wasn't actually a bomb. The material used to make it was probably sensitive to dust, which explains why security didn't pick up anything."

"But that means-?"

"A remote detonation of some sort, yes." Her father spared her a brief glance. "We both didn't hear anything, so it wasn't a sniper bullet. Someone actually had the audacity to be close enough to trigger the reaction with their aura."

Weiss shook her head furiously. "I don't care about any of that," she snapped. "What was the man's name?"

"Four past eleven." Her father's eyes flicked to his watch. "I take it you're not coming in next week."

"That man had a life that our family helped _ruin_! Can you blame him for making the choice that he did?"

"He was another failed assassination attempt on you. That's all that matters."

"Another?" Weiss' heartbeat quickened. "So there were others?"

 _" **They wanted to kill you."**_

Blake's voice surfaced from the back of her mind. Her palms were sweaty. She shook her head, trying to clear it out. "What happened to them?" she said, fighting to keep the tremors out of her voice. Hearing about it was one thing. But to actually know that it had happened was a completely different experience altogether.

"What do you think?" The cold, calculating voice of her father was undeniably unnerving. "I dealt with all of them personally."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"No."

The earlier shock drained from Weiss' body, allowing anger to return once more. For eighteen years, her father had been there in every facet of her life. When she beat his test and finally made it to Beacon, she thought she was free of him. Now it turned out that she was never truly free. No, she was always destined to be under his thumb.

It was _humiliating_.

"Control," she grit out. "All you crave is control."

"Of course." Her father answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What is life without it?"

"My life isn't yours to control!" Weiss stepped forward, slamming her hands on his desk. "Whatever happens to me, I want to happen on _my terms_. You have no right to interfere in matters that are my own!"

"But your matters _are_ mine."

"They _aren't_! That's always been the problem with you. You put on this front that you care about us, but that's all it is, isn't it? A front? What you really care about is that I'm the heiress to your _stupid_ company, and if I'm not under your thumb then I'm a liability, right? Do you know how that makes me feel? No wonder Winter left!"

An avalanche of words stormed out of her mouth. She couldn't stop them. She didn't want to.

"All my life, you've justified your actions as being on behalf of me. You _berated_ me in my name. You _isolated_ me in my name. And now I learn that you've _killed_ in my name. I never wanted you to do that!" Weiss' tone turned mocking. "But you don't do it for me, do you? You don't do it out of love. You don't do it for your family. No, you do it because it makes you _feel good_. You do it because it makes you _feel accomplished_."

All rhyme and reason had left her. Over and over in her head, she could only see the anomaly.

"You are so obsessed with controlling every single aspect of our lives, but nothing changes the fact that there will _always_ be a black mark on your perfect record. No matter how hard you try to forget, there was _one thing_ that you couldn't control. And it haunts you doesn't it? To know that for one moment, you were powerless? And that it was _me_ who took it from you? No wonder-!"

"Enough."

Weiss stiffened. Her jaw slapped shut. Her heartbeat thundered. In all her years of living, she had never heard her father raise his voice. To him, it was probably an unnecessary expenditure of energy to shout when talking normally achieved the same effect. So, instead of shouting, he did something else instead. It was the most minor of inflections, but to a man who always spoke in an orderly manner, it was the most major of changes.

And it _terrified_ her.

"You are a fool." Weiss' father closed his eyes. The inflection disappeared, causing Weiss to let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. "Everything I've done has been in the service of this family. You may see me as a _monster_ , and by all means you are free to do so, but don't assume to know what goes on in my mind." His eyes opened. "I have never done anything for myself. Every action I've undertaken has always been-"

"-for what?" Her voice was bitter. "Your legacy?"

"For the greatest woman I'd ever met," he said quietly. "And the love she had for her husband and children."

The gravity of his words stunned Weiss into silence. Her eyes slowly shifted to the anomaly perched on his desk. What stared back was the face of an unfamiliar woman with a familiar smile. All the stories she'd heard about her had been through Winter. Yet her father barely acknowledged her at all. Maybe that was because it hurt him to remember. Maybe that was how he dealt with it.

"I am a selfish man," her father said. "And it's because I'm selfish that I will do whatever it takes to keep this family safe. Even if it means that you both end up hating me."

Weiss' mouth worked up and down, but no words found their way out. Her hands slowly slipped off the table. They hung loosely by her sides as she stared at her father with unseeing eyes. Her mind was a spiral of emotions. She didn't know what to feel anymore.

"There have been ninety-one attempts on your life since you were twelve-years-old." Her father looked her straight in the eye, but to Weiss it felt like he was staring into her soul. "That man was the ninety-second."

Hot tears made their way into her eyes. She shook her head violently and willed them to go away. "Let me leave," she pleaded. "That's all I'm asking for, so please-!"

"No." Her father's eyes turned cold. His attention returned to his computer once more. "It is now ten past eleven," he said. "You should go."

Weiss couldn't move. Rather, she'd lost the will to. It took a while, but slowly, in her numbed state, she began to turn around. Step by step, she made her way back across the room. By the time she reached the doors, it felt like a century had passed. She paused for a moment, her hands on the handles.

"Do-?" She swallowed heavily. Her eyes remained trained to the doors. "Do you think she-?"

"No." Her father's voice echoed after her. "And neither did I."

* * *

 _Chapter Five Fin_

 **Author's Notes:** _To those who don't know, Weiss' father's personal secretary is a minor character that appeared in the RWBY manga. Chapters 3 and 4, to be precise. If you haven't read it yet, I suggest checking it out. At present it's still going through the trailers, but there are certain bits and pieces that add a lot to the personalities of the RWBY crew. A fun read._

 _\- Narutochaos22_


	6. The Meaning Behind Danse Macabre

**Summary:** _Post Volume 3. Half a year has passed since the 'Battle of Beacon'. How does the world continue after all that has happened? What's left after everything has been swept away?_

 **Stay**

 **Chapter Six**

 **The Meaning Behind Danse Macabre**

 **RWBY**

* * *

"Back again, kid?"

Jaune stood up, wiping his brow as he did so. "Yeah." Placing the rag back into a plastic bag, he stowed it into his satchel. "I thought I might as well."

"The little Rose told me you were coming." A burly middle-aged man walked up to him in a light brown overcoat, his right hand holding a thermos. "You should be taking it easy after last week." He threw the thermos at Jaune. "Tea," he offered.

Jaune unscrewed the lid, wincing as a wave of heat blew over his face. "Thanks," he said, taking a swig. Warmth flooded through his body, driving the cold morning air away.

"Sure thing." The man grunted as he stooped down. His hardened gaze became melancholic as he surveyed the gravestone in front of him. "Four months from today marks a year." His voice was gruff. "Sure as hell doesn't feel like it."

Taking one last swig, Jaune screwed the cap back on the thermos. "Is Mrs Nikos not with you?" he asked, handing it back to the man.

"Kid." A rumble of laughter rose in the man's chest. "We already said you can drop the honorifics. Just call us-"

"Mr and Mrs Nikos," Jaune said quickly.

Mr Nikos gave him an amused stare. " _Mrs Nikos_ ," he said. "Didn't fall asleep till late. I thought I'd let her rest."

Short, dark brown hair covered Mr Nikos' head. A long, jagged scar divided his face, ending at a rugged beard. While Pyrrha received most of her features from her mother, the flowing red hair being the most indicative, she'd inherited her eyes from her father. It was as if the creator himself fashioned sharp green emeralds, cut to perfection, and placed them where the man's eyes should be - a warning sign to every enemy that it was he who was destined to end him.

Jaune took a look at his surroundings. The cemetery used to be emptier. They all used to. First came the victims from the 'Battle of Beacon'. Then came the victims of the Grimm attacks. Then even more because of White Fang violence. If the dead could speak, how many voices could be heard?

"Oh! Right." Jaune began to rummage in his satchel. His hand emerged, revealing the bronze headpiece. After some hesitation, he extended it towards Mr Nikos. "Here," he said.

Mr Nikos took a long look at it before staring up at Jaune. "No."

"No?" Jaune's brow furrowed in confusion.

Mr Nikos shook his head. "Kid," he said. "Are you giving it back because you feel you _have_ to, or because you _want_ to?"

"That's…" Jaune's brain grinded to a halt. It was simple. Offer it. Let go. Walk away. But… "I don't know."

"They all deserve to die!"

A harsh voice cut through the morning dew. The two men looked around in surprise, their eyes scanning for the source of the disruption. A couple stood a few rows from them, who can't have been any older than their late thirties. The woman's shoulders were shaking in anger. The man had rested a hand on her back, trying to soothe her.

"Calm down, dear," he said softly.

"I can't calm down!" she shouted. "Our baby girl is dead because of that stupid family!"

"It's not their fault."

"This all started because of those _stupid machines_ , and they're only around because that _stupid family_ helped make them!"

"The president of the company has a daughter the same age," the man said quietly. "Can you honestly say you still want all of them to die?"

"Yes. _God yes_. Hell, if anything she should die first. That way the cold bastard will know what it feels like!"

Jaune had heard enough. With his hands in fists and anger on his mind, he started to walk towards them. "Hey-!" he began.

A hand clapped on his shoulder. "Don't," Mr Nikos said quietly.

"But-!"

"Let them grieve."

A strangled cry reached Jaune's ears. Looking back, he saw that the woman had crumpled to the ground, sobbing atop her daughter's grave. The man too broke down. Falling to her side, he wrapped his arms around her. Their tears reached the birds in the trees, who changed their melodies from major to minor.

"Weiss doesn't deserve this," Jaune whispered. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, kid," said Mr Nikos. "But neither did they."

* * *

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

 _"Are you eating alright?"_

"Yeah."

 _"Hmm… I worry about you, you know."_

"You don't have to. I've actually gotten pretty good at this hunter thing."

 _"If you say so,"_ a maternal voice sighed on the other end of the scroll. " _It still feels like yesterday when you left for Beacon Academy. Your father and I were both so proud of you."_

Guilt panged in Jaune's heart. "I've gotta go," he lied. "Ruby needs me to do something."

 _"Okay honey. Stay safe out there."_

"You too."

 _"And Jaune? You know you can tell me anything, right?"_

"I know," Jaune said quietly. Hanging up the scroll with a sigh, his eyes glanced back down at the bronze headpiece.

 _Whump. Whump. Whump._

"What do I need you to do?"

Jaune's head shot up to the doorway. Red-soled boots made their way into the ward as Ruby walked up to him, a puzzled look adorning her face. "Nothing," he said. "Just needed an excuse." As stealthily as he could, he looked around her lithe frame. _They're not here_ , he thought.

"If you say so." Ruby swished around, looking at Jaune from different angles. "What'd the nurses say?" She stopped in front of him, her grey eyes peering closely at his face. With a tilt of her head, she raised her hand. "All clear?"

Jaune gave her a small smile. Reaching out, he clapped her hand with his. "All clear."

* * *

The light of the setting sun painted intricately designed shadows over stone-paved paths. Shop owners began closing down their stalls for the night while others offered warm blankets for the homeless. Restaurant employees stood outside their businesses, shouting invites at passers-by to come in and dine with them. Parents ushered their children into their houses as bartenders opened their doors to tired workers who wanted nothing more than to drown their woes in an alcoholic euphoria.

Indeed, the city of Mistral was a sight to behold.

"So many places," Ruby mused aloud, daintily skipping along with Jaune in tow. She swivelled around, her cloak billowing behind her. "What'cha feel like eating?"

Jaune shrugged. "Surprise me."

It was quite some time later when the two of them found themselves sitting on a park bench, with their backs to the bright neon lights of the city's nightlife. Only the rustle of leaves and the trickle of the pond could be heard. Stars spilled out over the sky, casting their faint glow over the horizon.

"That was really good," Ruby said, her expression wistful. She sat forward on the bench, her feet scuffing the ground beneath her.

"The amount you and Yang both eat still amazes me."

"Hey!"

A faint chuckle escaped Jaune's lips. They were surrounded by large statues of champions past, praised for their sacrifice in both the Great War and the Faunus War, surrounded the area. Floodlights angled from below, illuminating them in the darkness. And as he looked up at the vast juggernauts of history's past, Jaune could only wonder who else would end up joining their ranks.

"Did something happen?"

Ruby's voice broke through Jaune out of his reverie. He turned back only to see her curiously staring back at him. "What makes you say that?"

Ruby gave him a pointed stare.

"Oh." Jaune averted his gaze to his shoes. "Yeah, something did happen." His hands clutched his stomach as phantom pains shot through him. "I dunno how to fix it, though."

"Glue?"

"Haha. Very funny."

Of all the stars in the sky, one suddenly appeared, blazing much bigger than the others. Jaune's gaze followed it as it shot through the horizon, leave a glowing trail in its wake. Faster and faster it went. Brighter and brighter it became, burning up until there was nothing left of it to burn.

Until there was nothing left of it to offer.

"Ruby." Jaune dropped his gaze back down to the earth and closed his eyes. "Can I call myself a failure now?"

"Sure you can," she said. "But'cha have to call me one, too."

Perplexed, he turned to look at her. "Why?"

"You weren't the one who let Pyrrha die, Jaune." Ruby shrugged as she turned to look at him. "I did."

Jaune gaped. A frenzy of emotions seemed to quietly boil behind those stormy grey eyes. He was able to pick up something of them. Regret. Sadness. Remorse. These were all emotions that Ruby Rose kept suppressed. "That's-" He shook his violently. "That's not-!"

"I don't like sleeping." Ruby scooted back on the bench. She pulled up her legs and hugged her knees. "'Cause every time I fall asleep I just see Cinder standing over Pyrrha. I hear her scrabbling for air as she just… disintegrates." Her grip tightened. "If I'd just made it up there a little faster, then maybe…" Her body began to tremble.

Guilt seized Jaune's very being. He had no idea that Ruby had been holding this burden with her all this time. Nora was right. He'd only been thinking about himself. He'd only been thinking about how much Pyrrha's death had hurt _him_. What about the others? How did they feel?

 _" **And in all that time, did you ever think that we were hurting too?"**_

"It wasn't your fault, Ruby," he said. "You can't blame yourself for that!"

Ruby opened her eyes slowly, and flashed him a weak smile. "'Kay," she said. "Then you can't either."

"I… huh?"

"You can't blame yourself without blaming me." Ruby stood up and stretched, letting out a groan as stiff joints began to move once more. "That's the rule!"

Jaune gave a short laugh of disbelief. "It's not that simple," he said. "It can't be."

"Of course it can."

"How?"

Ruby took in a deep breath of the fresh night air. "Do you remember what Professor Port told us?"

Shades of long forgotten days reformed in Jaune's mind. "That we're the order when nothing is left," he said slowly. "That we're the saviours when all hope is gone."

"Exactly!" Ruby whipped around to face him. "It's so easy to think of all the lives that we couldn't save, and to just _wallow_ in it." She closed her eyes. "We focus on all these things so much that we forget about the people we _did_ save."

"But what if it's not enough?" Jaune argued.

"It will never be enough," Ruby said softly. "You can't save everyone, Jaune. That's what I learned that night."

The world exists on a delicate balance. One wrong deserves one right. One right deserves one wrong. It's why the poor exists alongside the wealthy. It's why crime exists alongside order. It's why death exists alongside life. Without balance, the world cannot exist. It's cruel. It's beautiful. It's life.

"Remnant's sick, Jaune." Ruby stooped down to Jaune's eye level. "If we don't at least try to cure it, then how can we even call ourselves hunters and huntresses?" She grinned at him. "There are children that can go home to _both_ of their parents because of us, and that's enough for me."

The hustle and bustle of the night life did not sink its teeth into this moment of solace. The park still remained still. The stars still remained bright. The leaves still rustled, and the pond still trickled. Peace may be few and far between to come by, but for tonight it reigned over two lost souls who were wholly unprepared to face the harsh realities set upon them.

"We should be heading back," said Ruby. Facing the park's exit, she began to walk away. "We gotta report in early tomo-" A hand shot out, grabbing her cloak. Jolting back, she turned around, bewildered.

Jaune's vision had begun to blur. His feeble grasp on Ruby's cloak let up. "How?" he gasped out. Tears glistened in his eyes as he held himself. "Despite everything that's happened, how can you still smile so freely?"

Jaune didn't know what to think. He screwed his eyes shut as he held himself tighter. It was too much. The emotions he was feeling were too much. Thoughts and memories intertwined as they stormed through his head. He was lost in them. Drowning in them. His head spun as he began to hyperventilate. Air. He needed air.

"That's easy, silly." Jaune's eyes widened as he felt a pair of arms embrace him. Ruby rested her chin on his shoulder. With her eyes closed, she brought her mouth up to his ear. "If I don't, then who will?"

For the longest time, Jaune remained motionless in shock. Slowly, his arms made their way around Ruby's middle. Then, it broke. It took a moment, but something broke inside of him. Try as he might, nothing could him as he sobbed uncontrollably. His grip tightened around Ruby as he continued to cry his heart out.

Maybe he was crying for the villagers he couldn't save. Maybe he was crying for the friends and classmates he'd lost back at Beacon. Or maybe he was crying because he was just a boy, who'd finally come to terms with the fact that he'd lost someone he'd begun to love.

And that she was never coming back.

And through all of his sobs, Ruby held him steady. "It's not your fault," she said softly, stroking the back of his head. She closed her eyes as a few tears too made their way down her cheeks.

"It's not your fault."

* * *

 _Chapter Six Fin_

 **Author's Notes:** _In the event that White Knight does not prevail, I would be open to Lancaster happening in its stead. I'm serious, they're fucking cute._

 _\- Narutochaos22_


End file.
